


Lost My Place

by hideandseek



Category: 15& (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Please Don't Kill Me, Yoongi Is Bad at Feelings, jimin is too good for this world, this is super self indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2018-08-27 01:23:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8382496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideandseek/pseuds/hideandseek
Summary: Jimin knew her place, she figured it all out early on. She was only eight when she found herself staring forlornly at her reflection in a bathroom mirror. Roughly, she pulled at the intricate braid her mother had spent nearly all morning on, all because a snot nosed boy at school told her she shouldn't try so hard, because she would never be pretty. Yes, she figured it all out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just love Park Jimin with all my heart.

Jimin knew her place, she figured it all out early on. She was only eight when she found herself staring forlornly at her reflection in a bathroom mirror. Roughly, she pulled at the intricate braid her mother had spent nearly all morning on, all because a snot nosed boy at school told her she shouldn't try so hard, because she would never be pretty. Yes, she figured it all out.

 

Jimin knew her place. She grew thick skin and a sharp sense of humor. She begged her parents to send her to study abroad. She sang and sang until her voice became hoarse. 

 

Jimin knew her place. But it didn't mean she wasn't moving. 

 

She barely remembers what it was like standing on that stage. She won, or so they tell her. But it becomes clear that Jimin doesn't fit. She isn't like Hayi, who becomes the type of pretty they need after losing a few pounds. But she isn't like Michelle ethier, who was strong enough to walk away from all the bullshit they spewed at her. Jimin wants to sing. She wants people to hear her sing.

 

She wasn't surprised, or even hurt, when she was put into a duo. Yerin had the looks and grace Jimin never quite grew into. And Jimin, well, she had what they needed to get noticed. 

 

Jimin knew her place. Standing next to pretty female idols made her want become smaller, invisible. She feared being compared, so she became someone no one be could compare too. There was only one way a plain looking girl could make it in this industry: ‘Variety Skills,’ or so they call it. But it was really about survival. The louder she yelled, the louder people laughed, the less they thought about how out of place she looked on their screen.

 

When it came to boys, Jimin spared no second thought. Of course she was surrounded by beautiful male idols who made her look even duller than their female counterparts. But she also knew hell would freeze over before they ever thought of her as a woman, much less treat her as one. 

 

And that was a blessing really. The other girls in the industry had to be careful if they got to close to any male, as rumors and hate most definitely loomed in their futures. Jimin purposely threw away her image as a woman. She could say what she wanted, stand next to who she wanted, and no one would think twice about it. The things you get away with when you’re not pretty, she mused. 

 

Which is why her interactions with a certain boy group made her feel so frustrated. Over the last two years BTS rose to unimaginable popularity, and Jimin knew it was well deserved. 

 

The first time she met them was fine. She was the new MC, she could stand some teasing from both the members and Eric. She teased back just as relentlessly. She was young and by that time had long given up on holding up pretenses in front of boys. Jimin knew she could never mistake their friendliness as anything but what it was. It was a fact that led to her having an overwhelming amount of guy friends, but it was inevitable with her easygoing personality.

 

It didn't stop Jimin from falling however. As level headed and self aware as she was, she had no control over her heart. It was rather dumb and cliche, in her opinion, the way she held a candle for Im Jaebum for so long. He wasn't even particularly close with her, not the way BamBam, Yugyeom, and her MOLA boys were. He didn't squish her cheeks and dote on her like Jinyoung, Kevin, and Eric. He didn't roughhouse with her like Jae or Jackson. And perhaps that was what made the difference.

 

He was her friend, her Oppa, but he treated her with a certain distance. Unlike all the men in her life, he seemed the most aware of the fact she was a girl. He joked and teased her, but he also made sure she had a blanket over her legs. He'd ruffle her head without a second thought, but he also made sure she didn't go home alone when it was dark. It was those little gestures, the ‘text me when you get back safely’ and the ‘have you eaten yet’ that tore away at Jimin’s defenses. 

 

She was aware it was no different than any older brother taking care of a younger girl. But after years of just being one of the guys, she couldn't help but feel something. It didn't change anything, really. Jimin knew it was unrequited, and she was content with quietly pining. She didn't try to act any prettier around him because, as always, she knew her place. 

 

She supposed there is something stupidly beautiful about being alone in love. 

 

If Jimin had to pick a moment where it all went to shit, it was when JYP announced plans for her solo single. To say she was shocked would be an understatement. Suddenly she had less than four months to get her visuals up to par. Promoting as 15& had allowed her to comfortably rely on Yerin, but now it was all on her to look good on camera. 

 

“Fuck,” was how she expressed it to her other half. Jimin showed her the new exercise regimen she’d have to start. Yerin (quiet and gentle image my ass) was laughing hysterically. 

 

“I'm sorry but, God is fair.” Jimin quietly flipped her off, reminding herself that this is why she doesn't have many female friends. Though that isn't quite true, over the years Jimin has come to appreciate the unspoken support girls give girls in this industry. Yerin may be her age, but she's calm and mature in ways Jimin wishes she could be. And if anything, that is what she envies the most. Yerin may not be the most confident or outgoing, but she has this surety about what she wants and who she is. Jimin, on the other hand, feels like she's floating. Content, but afraid. Afraid of asking for too much, afraid of loving things too much, afraid of everything slipping effortlessly out of her grasp. 

 

She met BTS again soon after the end of her solo promotions. Hopeless Love did well enough, and it could have done better had she agreed to promote it more. But she fed her PD some bullshit about the song being too difficult on her throat and he left it at that. It was uncanny, the way a song she hadn't even written struck a nerve. But she stuck with it, and through a combination of puberty, dieting, and exercise, Jimin began to change. 

 

By the time her song was released, Jimin was all soft lines and curves. She became hyper aware of her breasts and legs and, more importantly, how people looked at her. How her boys looked at her. Jackson and Jae (perhaps the weirdest and touchiest people she knew) now preferred to tease her from at least a meter away. Yugyeom couldn't look her in the eyes, Kevin and Eric continuously whined about their little girl growing up. Even Bambam (that little shit) began to look her up and down appreciatively. Jimin thought she was losing her mind. 

 

“What the fuck, dude,” she said after she caught Bambam gaze straying south for the umpteenth time. She punched his chest rather forcefully and he nearly coughed up his bingsu. 

 

“What? You’re hot.” Jimin blinked. Bambam paid her no mind furiously rubbed at the black bean stain on his shirt. 

 

“I swear to god if this is some kind of--” Bambam sighed. 

 

“It's not a joke, Jimin. Puberty hit you like a truck. If I hadn't unclogged that toilet for you that one time I’d 100% consider fu---”

 

Bambam quickly found himself with an unhealthy mouthful of shaved ice. He gulped before his hands flew up to his temples.

 

“BRAIN FREEZE,” he all but yelled, and the entire cafe shifted to look at them silently. Jimin hid her head in her hands.

 

“Just kill me,” she muttered forlornly. Bambam, despite being the biggest dick-wad Jimin had ever met, had the decency to pat her shoulder in a vague attempt at sympathy. 

 

Fast forward to a week or so later, where Jimin felt the eyes of Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin practically burning a hole into her. Not only were they staring, they seemed to be engaged in a heated silent argument, each glancing venomously at the other ever so often. They were in the midst of ASC rehearsals and Jimin was torn between hiding behind Eric or butting both their heads together. Besides Taehyung and Jimin’s balant appreciation for her face, the other members were behaving equally as odd. 

 

Earlier she had smiled briefly at Jungkook and the boy had remained frozen, his pretty doe eyes comically wide. He sputtered something about hearing his name, and disappeared into what Jimin was pretty sure was a storage closet. Jin and Hoseok had immediately began showering her with compliments that made her face burn. She caught Namjoon eyeing the strip of skin between the hem of her skirt and her stockings, but he was quickly distracted by a quick smack to the head from Yoongi. 

 

The rapper had smirked slightly after. 

 

“When do you turn twenty?” He asked, once the others were out of earshot. He was leaning against the wall next to them, caging her in ever so slightly. He wasn't that much taller than her, yet Jimin felt so small, in the best way. She flushed under his amused gaze. Yoongi, for lack of better word, was intimidating. His lilac colored hair did nothing to deter the predatory glint of his smile. The last time BTS came Jimin remembers forgetting briefly how to breathe when their eyes met. She learned her lesson with Jaebum, and so Jimin kept those thoughts deeply hidden in the recesses of her mind. Yet here Yoongi was, looking at her. But, he'd always been looking at her. 

 

“Next year, Oppa.” Jimin didn't mean to make the word sound so breathy. Yoongi was just so close, the earthy tones of his cologne making her feel warm and dizzy. His eyes sharpened, flickering down to her parted lips. 

 

“Careful,” he whispered. And suddenly Jimin wanted to be anything but.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of introspection. Lots of boys being dumb. Lots of female friendship. I wasn't kidding when I said this was purely self indulgent. Also, weekly updates are a thing.

The next time she saw him, there was an undeniable chill in the air. Months had passed, but they’d done nothing to alleviate the tension Yoongi had poured into her. His quiet ‘careful’ rung in her ears like a mantra, and Jimin began to question whether or not she was a tad obsessed. Apparently, she wouldn’t be the first. Yoongi had what some would call a reputation. 

 

One of the few benefits of being friends with a bunch of idiot guys was that they talked a lot of shit. ‘Yoongi-hyung’ was a constant  figure in their conversations, ranging from Jackson admitting that he’d never touch him out of fear of being killed to Yugyeom relaying the tales of conquests he’d heard from Jungkook. Yoongi had his fair share of idols, actresses, and even the occasional host and anchor. It didn’t bother Jimin as much as she thought it would, and not nearly enough as much as Yerin thought it  _ should. _

 

“How can you be okay with all that?” Yerin whined exasperatedly. They were spread out on the soft sheepskin carpet of A-yeon’s living room. A-yeon herself was dangling her legs of the edge of the couch, scrolling idly on her phone. The topic had come up because of MCountdown, and Jimin silently cursed herself for ever turning on the TV.  

 

“He’s hot, Yerin. In a ‘probably has killed a man’ kind of way. I see the appeal,” A-yeon offered. Jimin snorted unwittingly, while Yerin looked seconds away from an aneurysm. 

 

“He asked when you are turning twenty, that’s creepy,” she insisted. Jimin flushed, she too had analyzed the implications behind Yoongi’s question. A-yeon sat up, smiling gleefully at them.

 

“Maybe he just wants to give her a gift,” she began, wiggling her fingers at Yerin. “A big, aching, rock hard gift--”

 

“UNNIE.”

 

Jimin couldn’t help but laugh, though her stomach was in knots. Yoongi’s past didn’t deter her. She wasn’t someone who dwelled on things she couldn’t change. But the thought of Yoongi wanting her in that way set her nerves alight. Whether it was fear or anticipation, she wasn't sure. What she felt for him was not the tender crush she had on Jaebum. This was a fire, burning her from within, and even she didn't know what could sate it. She wondered, briefly, if Yoongi felt it too.

 

The closer she got to twenty, the more she noticed the men in her life changing. It was like they were all waiting, and Jimin wondered just how blind she had been. Yugyeom confessed to her on a quiet October afternoon, and the quietness that followed Jimin’s ‘sorry’ was deafening. Seungyeon hugged her far too long a few weeks after as they left Nathan’s house, and Jimin let him, blank and unsure. He apologized, laughing it off as tiredness, but it was too late. The air between them had changed, irrevocably so. Jimin was lost, and she began to ask herself when exactly did everything start going wrong.

 

Even Jaebum, Jaebum who’d never treated her as anything but an incredibly precious little sister, drunkenly stumbled into her lips one cold night. He’d been acting odd for weeks. Sometimes he’d look at Jimin with a fiery determination, but then it’d dissipate just as quickly as it’d started. It was like he was constantly having an internal battle with himself. With everything that had happened Jimin didn’t have the energy to read too much into it. Two of her closest friendships were on the verge of crumbling, and Jimin needed to forget about everything for a little while. And so she agreed to drinks with what was left of her boys after cancelling far too many times. That was how Jimin found herself taking care of a tipsy Jaebum after they left the bar. 

 

Jimin had his arm hoisted on her shoulder, gently guiding Jaebum to the nearest cab stand. Mark and Jinyoung were a few feet ahead, dragging a wasted Bambam. Jackson and Youngjae followed, the two huddled close together as they constructed a flirty (read: incoherent) text to an unsuspecting girl from Youngjae's class.

 

(Yugyeom was nowhere to be found, avoiding Jimin like the plague, as if the years of friendship before that moment meant nothing at all. He got his answer, even if it wasn’t the one he wanted, even if it left Jimin stuck in the middle of a story she’d never be able to write the ending of.)

 

Jimin had been laughing at something Bambam had yelled, when she felt Jaebum sway forward slightly. There was a soft pressure on her mouth, and then nothing at all. He moved out of her hold and into the open door of a cab Jimin hadn’t even seen stop. 

 

After, it was as if nothing had happened. Jaebum never mentioned it, whatever internal struggle he had been grappling with seemed to have been resolved. As for Jimin, she wondered if maybe she’d imagined it all. She was angry at first, but after a while she just felt numb. Her body stopped feeling like her own, and she wondered how many other men would just take what they needed from her without asking, physically and emotionally. 

 

Is this what it meant to be pretty? Jimin sat in front of her vanity and stared blankly at her reflection. Her face seemed smaller, her neck slimmer, her hair longer, all the things Jimin had tried so hard not want, all the things she thought she’d never be. And now, she hardly recognizes herself. 

 

“You’ve always been beautiful, Jiminie,” A-yeon whispered into her hair that night. They were a bit old for sleepovers, but the older girl had packed a small bag as soon as she heard the tears in Jimin’s voice over the phone. Her parents barely batted an eye, over the years A-yeon had become a permanent fixture in Jimin’s life, the older sister she never knew she needed.

 

They laid on Jimin’s bed, staring up at the glow in the dark stars her dad had put up when she was in the second grade. They hadn’t glowed in years, yet Jimin swore in that moment she could still make out their shapes in the dark. A-yeon continued, “It isn’t about that. You’re growing up. Things that were simple before start getting complicated, because you start to understand them better. That goes for people too.” 

 

Jimin thought about Jaebum, Yugyeom, and Seungyeon, thought about all the people in her life she may have been inadvertently hurting. She thought about those who inadvertently hurt her. She thought of Yoongi who was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger. He wasn't her friend or her brother, he wasn’t someone who looked at her like he was expecting something. Perhaps that was why she wanted him. 

 

The next time she saw him, her hair was as dark as Seoul’s starless night sky. Jimin had grown distant, keeping careful boundaries with those around her. She laughed and joked just as she used to, but there was an impenetrable bubble people could no longer cross. 

 

Or so she thought. The minute she saw Yoongi’s mint hair and wry smirk, Jimin lost all semblance of resolve. The set suddenly felt about 30 degrees warmer, but she bolstered on with a tight smile, greeting the group as a whole. Eric came soon after her, engulfing the members into one of those weird bro hugging sessions. Yoongi hung back, eyeing Jimin carefully. 

 

“The black hair suits you,” he said nonchalantly, and Jimin wondered just what kind of game they were playing. The Yoongi she’d heard of didn't waste time when it came to something he wanted, but then again maybe he didn't want her. Still, the look he was giving her said otherwise. Yoongi never stared at anything but her face, but it still made Jimin feel incredibly naked under his gaze. It was as if he knew what she was thinking, and just how badly she needed him to do  _ something.  _

 

“I wish I could say the same to you,  _ Oppa.”  _ Yoongi cracked a smile, a genuine one that showed his gums, and holy shit was Jimin unprepared. She could barely deal with dark and dangerous Yoongi, adorable Yoongi could not be added to the mix. 

 

“I swear, they’re gonna kill me with all this fucking bleach,” He complained tugging at a minty green tuft. Jimin giggled involuntarily, the loud kind that Eric swore sounded like his great aunt who lived in Colorado. Yoongi’s eyes softened imperceptibly.

 

“Careful,” he said warmly, his hand coming to rest at the top of her head. Jimin felt her heart clench. It was the first time he’d touched her, and the open affection in his gaze was making it hard for her to breathe. Yoongi left soon after for hair and makeup, but Jimin stayed rooted in her spot staring at the space he once occupied. She prayed to every deity that she’d survive this episode of ASC with her emotions intact. 

 

And she did, mostly. Jimin only blurted out that she wanted a boyfriend twice during a live recording, which considering her fragile mental state was a success. While the other boys teased her little outburst, Yoongi didn’t seem all that amused, looking between her and his members sharply. And while Jimin managed to successfully dodge the rather blatant flirting attempts of both Taehyung and BTS Jimin throughout the whole show, someone had the bright idea of shoving her between them during the final selca. 

 

Long story short, Yoongi’s pettiness was dutifully catalogued. 

 

“I’ll be 20,” Jimin pulled at Yoongi’s sleeve just before he left the studio. No one was left besides a few interns cleaning up. “The next time you see me, I’ll be twenty.” Jimin felt the embarrassment flood her, but she had to say something. It could be months before she got a chance to look at him again. Yoongi regarded her carefully.

“I’m not the only one who’s waiting.”

 

“You’re the only one that matters.” He seemed floored by her response, and Jimin panicked. Before she could question if she had taken it too far, Yoongi leaned in close, his expression unreadable.

 

“What exactly do you want from me?” Jimin flushed, averting her eyes. Adrenaline could only take her so far, and she was starting to feel vulnerable. What did she want? Yoongi chuckled, not unkindly, and gently took the hand on his sleeve into his own. His thumb pressed into her palms, caressing the soft skin there. They stood there for a moment, and Jimin realized she’d known the answer all along.  

  
  
  
  


_ What do you want? _

  
  
  
  


_ Whatever you’ll give me.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of this fic, BTS needs to get their ass on ASC. I am running out of material.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimin calls people out on their shit and chaos ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is long overdue. I apologize, and please feel free to come yell at me:
> 
> parkjidamn.tumblr.com

Time does not stand still. Min Yoongi held her hand in the darkening set until his manager yelled for him. It could have been seconds, it could have been minutes, it could have been hours. And then, he let go. As much as Jimin wanted to stay in that moment, he let go. Yoongi disappeared into the shadows with an unreadable smile. Jimin heard her own name being echoed throughout the studio, but she didn’t move. Even if Yoongi had let go, she was still holding on. 

 

Weeks passed like a montage. Jimin woke up one day, and she was twenty. It was all a bit anticlimactic, though she enjoyed receiving the gifts from her family and friends, including one (way too wet) kiss from A-yeon. Jimin wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and sent a half hearted glare to her unnie. At least Yerin had the decency to look scandalized. 

 

“Yoongi won’t do it, so I did,” A-yeon exclaimed cheekily. Jimin snorted. The cold February breeze sneaked in through the propped door, and she could feel it brushing her bare legs. They were at Jimin’s favorite kimbap place and she honestly just wanted to eat and get rid the taste of A-yeon’s sticky lip gloss from her mouth. 

 

“You didn’t have to do it in public,” Yerin scolded, eyes darting nervously around the mostly empty restaurant. No one was really paying them any mind. Jimin busied herself with stuffing more food in her mouth, a universal defense strategy she regretted not using before. It’s hard to say anything incriminating with a mouthful of kimbap. 

 

Yoongi was still a conscious presence in her mind. How could he not be? BTS grew bigger and bigger, and Jimin watched, unsure if she was allowed to feel the proudness swelling in her chest. Something changed the last time they saw each other, irrevocably so. Jimin didn’t know where she stood with Yoongi, and honestly neither did he. She never got around to answering his question. But there were bigger things looming in Jimin’s future. A few weeks after turning twenty, Jimin was sneaking into an empty office. She sat on the uncomfortable leather seats, only to rise quickly to her feet once the door opened. She bowed a full ninety degrees, dark hair falling forward. 

 

“I want an album. I want to help write it and produce it, and I want to get it out before the end of the year.” Jimin could feel her heart beat pulsate through her entire body, pumping the adrenalin she would need for this moment. Her PD-nim looked shocked to stay the least, but that could also be due to the fact that Jimin had more or less been waiting inside his office that morning before he arrived. He chuckled, but not unkindly. 

 

“Jimin-ah. You know we’re gearing up for Twice’s comeback in––” 

 

“I deserve this.” Jimin blurted out suddenly. She straightened her back and looking the older man straight in the eyes. Her PD-nim stared at her for a moment, and Jimin swore she saw a flash of guilt in his eyes. 

 

It was the same look he gave her when he told her she’d be debuting as a duo, or when anyone mentioned Hayi. Jimin hated that look. She hated the pity, the being told her talent was wasted, or that she should have picked another company. It was as if they were devaluing everything she had experienced, all the memories and friends she had made, all the love she had given and received. Jimin had no regrets, so no one should carrying any in her name. They stood in silence until the older man let out a sigh. He suddenly looked much older than Jimin recalled, the tiredness in his eyes almost made her want to take what she said back. 

 

“Okay,” he breathed, finally. Jimin blinked. 

 

“Okay?” She repeated, just to be sure. The corner of his lips twitched into a small smile.

 

“Okay, Jimin-ah. You deserve it.”

 

Looking back, Jimin guesses she was naive. Putting together an album was perhaps the most gruelling experience of her life. She lost her sleep, sanity, and on some days the will to step into a recording booth. She was eternally grateful for the small team she had, which consisted of Nathan and some JYP Ent. producers who believed in Jimin more than she believed in herself. Even Seungyeon came around, despite the lingering awkwardness between them, and got her in touch with some rappers to feature. Speaking of Seungyeon, Jimin was determined to settle things with the men in her life. Unfortunately for him, he was victim #1. With a little help from Nathan, Jimin cornered him in no time. 

 

“Talk,” Jimin ordered. Nathan looked between them with wide eyes, quietly gathering his thing and mumbling something about having to go. She wasn’t sure where he was going, considering they were in his house, but Jimin knew better than to press the matter. Seungyeon stared at his clasped hands, his shoulders tensed almost protectively. Jimin noticed, and the anger inside her fizzled out. Whatever was going on was harder on him than it was on her. So she waited.

 

“I missed you,” he said finally. Jimins eyes grew glassy, and she blinked the impending tears away. 

 

She thought back to nearly two years ago when they first met, when things were uncomplicated and they were just kids who wanted to make music. She remembered Seungyeon’s half assed attempts at teaching her how to rap, his inability to keep a straight face when they pulled stupid pranks on Nathan. She remembered his frustration at still being a trainee, and the warm nights they spent talking about the pointlessness of this whole industry, and how they’d wake up the next day with the same burning desire to be heard. She holds onto the weeks he spent blatantly refusing to buy her a birthday present, because he thought his face in her MV ‘was gift enough.’  She missed him too. 

 

In the end, they weren’t able to resolve everything after colonizing their friends living room for an afternoon. But they were talking, and while things were far from what they used to be, Jimin felt lighter than she had in months. Together they tracked down the missing member of their trio, and splurged on shitty convenience store food for old times sake. At one point, Seungyeon sneakily tried to eat some of her ramen and without even thinking about it Jimin grabbed his fingers and twisted them back painfully. In retaliation, he threw a chopstick at her eye. Biting into her friends forearm, Jimin realized they would be just fine. 

 

Before their graduation, Yugyeom came to her. Jimin wasn’t expecting it, after watching the other boy blatantly avoid her for months she’d planned to have Bambam stage an intervention. He came on his own, and Jimin knew that could not have been easy. And so she waited, the air in the empty classroom feeling stilted. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his quiet voice deafeningly loud compared to the silence that had stretched between them from the moment Jimin had uttered those same words to him. It made her heart clenched, and not for the first time she wondered why we love those we can’t have. 

 

Jimin admitted she had felt betrayed at first, by his confession and his withdrawal. Yugyeom had been one of the first friends she made at JYP, back then he was just a stupidly tall kid who laughed at all of Jimin’s lame jokes. She couldn’t help but try to pinpoint when their friendship became a means to an end for him. But that wasn’t how feelings worked, and Jimin knew that better than anyone. After what seemed like forever, they walked back to the ceremony, and Jimin paused as they reached the entrance to the gymnasium. She looked up at Yugyeom with a halfhearted glare.

 

“If you start avoiding me again, I’m going to lock you in one of those fucking practice rooms.” Yugyeom let out a familiar bark of laughter Jimin hadn’t realized she missed.

 

“I seriously thought you didn’t see me,” he admitted bashfully. 

 

“Dude, you’re like the world's least sneaky giant,” Jimin chided, “now let's get those diplomas so we can finally blow this popsicle stand.” 

 

Time went on. The weather grew warmer, and Jimin grew more irritable. She stared at the lyrics before her forlornly, knowing deep down that they were in fact the best she’d written. Her producer said so, and had put her up to the task to further develop them, and use that theme throughout the album. But the problem laid in the subject of those lyrics.

 

Jimin hadn’t dared to write about Yoongi. Whatever they had (or didn’t have) was too muddled and unclear for her to even put into words. That being said, there was only one other person that made Jimin feel frustrated and hurt enough to warrant three or four songs about them. And so despite her better judgment, Jimin wrote what she felt honestly. It was only after the songs were recorded that the reality of it all hit her. 

 

“He’s going to know.”

 

“You’re being paranoid, Jimin.”

 

“No you don't understand Yerin, he is going to _ know _ .”

 

A-yeon let out a frustrated groan. She looked down at the younger girls from her spot on Jimin’s bed, flapping her hands dramatically in a vain attempt to get the polish to dry faster. 

“Who cares if he knows or if it bothers him? That bastard kissed you and pretended nothing happened,” A-yeon snapped, and Jimin flinched, though she knew that anger wasn’t directed at her. Since the night she found Jimin crying, the older girl has yet to forgive Jaebum, and she’s made no effort to hide that anger. It’s made things awkward, considering the two were pretty good friends before it all went down, but Jimin knows that A-yeon does not let things go so easily. The only reason she had yet to chew out Jaebum herself is because Jimin has repeatedly begged her not to. 

 

“I don’t think he remembers,” Jimin placiated. She recalled the last time she recorded with him back in March on ASC, and how everything seemed normal. Jaebum joked with her, stroking her hair and squishing her cheeks like he always had. But even then, there was something forced about it. Jimin of course withheld that last bit of information from her friends, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. 

 

“If you really think he’ll know, why not just talk to him? Not just about the songs, but everything?” Yerin suggested gently, knocking her shoulders against Jimin’s. 

 

“He’s still an ass, but it's not a terrible idea,” A-yeon admitted, her gaze softening on Jimin. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

 

Jimin considered this carefully. As she was working on her album she worried that she was digging up all those feelings she had tucked away. Years of being so close to him yet so far, years of watching him with other (prettier, taller, older) girls, years of analyzing every interaction in hopes to find something to hold on to. But it wasn’t all bad, b eing around him made her genuinely happy. She loved seeing him smile and laugh, and though it was one sided those moments meant the world to Jimin. Liking him was confusing, but breathtaking. There was no happy ending to this, no definite resolution. Jimin still hopes he’s happy, and she hopes that she can be happy too. 

 

“I don’t think so,” Jimin says finally, “I don’t think I have in a while.” She thinks of Yoongi then, which isn’t shocking considering how often her thoughts drift back to him. Though her heart was not in Jaebums hands anymore, it was not in her own either. 

 

With Jaebum, Jimin decides there's no need for any backhanded plans. He’s far too perceptive for any of those to work anyway, so Jimin contacts him directly. They meet at a small cafe Jimin has been to once or twice, and as usual he’s already there even though she took care to arrive ten minutes earlier. One thing she knows about Jaebum is that he rarely lets others have the upperhand. She sits down and they order. Without the cameras and the presence of the other members, the tension between them is palpable. 

 

“Your hair.” is the first thing he says, without any preamble, and Jimin wryly tugs at a blonde strand.

 

“It took a lot of fucking bleach,” she answers, mouth curving into a private smile as she remembered Yoongi’s words. Jimin wondered if he’d approve of it. Jaebum looks at her with an unreadable expression, and it sobers her immediately. “Is there something you wanted to say,” he asks. Jimin freezes before nodding, forcing herself to look him in the eye. 

 

“So I’m releasing an album,” Jimin begins, and the smile that breaks up Jaebum’s face surprises her. He reaches for her hand on the table, eyes warm. 

 

“I saw the promotional pictures, congratulations Jimin-ah,” he says and Jimin can tell he means it. Jimin looks at where their hands meet and feels her stomach lurch. It’s now or never. 

 

“Thank you. That’s what I wanted to talk about,” she takes a shuddering breath, “there are a few songs on it that are actually about you. I just, thought you should know.” She pauses, Jaebum still hasn’t let go of her hand. “I liked you for a really long time, and it all ended up bubbling to the surface as I was writing lyrics. I wanted you to hear it from me instead of creating any misunderstanding.”

 

“I see.” That is when Jimin realized that Jaebum does not look surprised. He looks… pleased? Suddenly everything starts locking into place. He knew. An angry knot forms in Jimin’s throat. Of course he fucking knew, she thinks stupidly. All those years she’d been grappling with this, all the times he treated her more nicely than usual, all the times she tried to give up only to be pulled back in by the same stupid smile he’s wearing right now. And he  _ knew _ . Jimin snatched her hand back and swallowed thickly, willing herself to remain calm. 

 

“You kissed me,” she affirmed, and Jaebum looked away quickly and Jimin snapped. “No, don’t avoid this  _ Oppa  _ you kissed me and then pretended nothing happened knowing how I felt. Was it fun? Seeing me act like an idiot over you?” Jaebums gaze turns sharp.

 

“It’s not like that Jimin-ah ––”

 

“Really? Then tell me what it's like?”

 

“I was confused!” Jaebum all but yells, hushing the people around them into whispers. He ducks his head into his hands. “I was confused. I noticed you had a crush on me, but you were just a kid Jimin and I thought it was cute but I didn’t pay it any mind. Then you changed. And before I even realized it there were guys even older than me talking about you. I felt… possessive. I was frustrated and confused and drunk, so I kissed you.” 

 

“I’m not yours to be possessive over,” Jimin answered, voice far calmer than she felt. “I’ve moved on.”

 

“I know. That’s why I waited for you to come to me about it, but you never did, so I assumed you wanted to forget it,” he continues, looking at Jimin earnestly. “I’m so sorry. I swear if it hadn’t been for that hyung I––” 

 

“What hyung?” Jimin interrupted. Jaebum rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

 

“In the waiting rooms, sometimes guys start talking shit, and it's usually harmless. But some idiot was making… comments about you at KBS last year, and before Jackson and I could step in Yoongi-hyung took the bastard outside,” he scoffs at the memory, “I’d never seen him move that quickly.” 

 

They parted ways uneasily, with the promise that they’d talk more, but Jimin doubted they’d ever be able to go back to being friends very quickly. While Jimin knew where she stood, Jaebum seemed unsure as to what he felt for her, past or present. That was something he needed to figure out on own. And while Jimin was still upset with Jaebum, she couldn’t help but wonder the implications of what he told her. Yoongi had asked her what she wanted from him, and right now she needed answers. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jimin grows. But some things never change, for better or for worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is still purely self indulgent. I still love Park Jimin with all my heart. Thank you for waiting.

It turned out getting answers was easier said than done. Months passed lethargically, like clouds slowly drifting across a summer sky. Jimin was confused and tired, but she was also determined. She had an album to release. And while Yoongi and BTS seemed to be on a whole other playing field, topping the charts and selling out shows, Jimin had her own goals. She wanted to create something she was proud of.

 

August seemed to smother the air, and Jimin sighed in relief as she walked into the studio, escaping the sweltering heat. Someone was already draped across the black leather couch, and Jimin dropped her bag unceremoniously, the loud clang echoing in the mostly empty room. Young K sat up alarmed, his eyes blinking wildly. He finally saw Jimin stifling a laugh by the door, and threw her an annoyed squint.

 

“You’re such a dick,” he muttered in English, a phrase that had become rather common in their interactions. Jimin had known Young K for years, he’d been a trainee for longer than even Jaebum or Jinyoung, but they had never been close. Despite their large group of mutual friends, the two had simply never had an opportunity to really click, until now.

 

“You shouldn’t be slacking off,” Jimin chided, shoving Young K’s feet off the couch. She plopped down next to him and grinned, “Album is going to be released in less than five hours!” Jimin's excitement was palpable, and Young K found himself smiling in spite of himself.

 

“You act like _I’m_ the one releasing it,” he snorted sarcastically. Jimin’s grin morphed into a rare, sincere smile. She looked at Young K earnestly.

 

“It is as much yours as it is mine,” she stated, the atmosphere around them shifting. It was small moments like this that made Young K realize why everyone was a little in love with her. Jimin had a way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the world, a feeling that was rather addicting. But he didn't let himself get too caught up, better men have tried and failed.

 

Jimin on the other hand could not put into words how grateful she was to Young K. He came quite literally out of nowhere to help her do the impossible, put her feelings into words and turn those words into music. To many it seemed like no big deal, but to her it meant the world. She made a mental note to thank Jae as well. He noticed Jimin was having a difficult time during the writing process and enlisted Young K to help. Before she could let her mind wander too far, she glanced at Young K’s outfit now that he was in a somewhat upright position. She raised an eyebrow.

 

“Are you wearing that on the Vlive?” she asked, gesturing to Young K’s rather offensive tracksuit. He looked down at himself.

 

“Yeah what's wrong with… Uh… No of course not,” Young K stumbled at the slightly murderous expression on Jimin’s face. She brightened immediately.

 

“Good.”

 

The release went better than Jimin could have ever hoped for. She was still wary of performing on music shows, but she found herself busy with radio interviews and small venues. Jimin felt more herself there. She could never fulfill the expectations of an idol, but she was an artist after all. Her album was well received and steady on the charts, and that was all that mattered.

 

“You could have more, you know?” A-yeon breathed into the dark living room. Jimin’s parents were fast asleep, so the two girls spoke in hushed whispers. Her promotions had ended a few days ago, and while she loved every second of them, it was nice to finally unwind. A-yeon had more or less invited herself over for an impromptu movie night, and so they lay leisurely on Jimin’s couch with an assortment of snacks between them. At this point Jimin was only half paying attention to her friend, completely enraptured by Leonardo Dicaprio on screen.

 

“Uh huh,” She muttered absently. A-yeon in turn threw a chocoball at Jimin’s nose.

 

“Jimin, I’m being serious,” the older girl sat up, staring at her determinedly. “It doesn’t have to be just dingy cafes and afternoon radio. You have enough talent to surpass all of us.” Leo remained frozen on the screen. Jimin sat up, her expression somber. She suddenly looked very much like that girl who stood on that stage so many years ago. The girl who was unafraid. The girl who had won.

 

“What if it’s enough?” A-yeon remained silent. Suddenly this felt like a far too serious conversation to have over burnt popcorn. But Jimin continued, playing with the hem of her sleep shirt, “Why do I have to surpass anyone?”

 

“You don’t have to,” A-yeon answered carefully, “But isn’t it a waste if you don’t even try?” Jimin tried not to let the words sink in. She knew A-yeon only wanted the world for her, even if the world didn’t want Jimin back.

 

“I’m happy. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not greedier now.” She smiled at at A-yeon, feeling more sure of herself than she had in a long time. “As long as I can sing, as long as people can hear me sing, I’m okay.”

 

That afternoon, Jimin’s world felt limitless. She shouldn’t have been so naive.

 

Soon enough, she was being blocked. It took her months to realize it. It began with her practice time was always being rescheduled or cancelled. Jimin didn’t pay it much mind at first, she knew she had a lot of flexibility compared to other artists since her only real schedule was ASC on Tuesday’s and not much else. It’s a fact that hadn’t bothered her much before, she already accepted that the strict idol life wasn’t for her.

 

But then, they took her studio access as well. And it dawned on Jimin that she was being put on the back burner. It hurt. She tried to rationalize it at first. Her first album had done fairly okay, but it was nothing compared to the sky high sales of Twice and Got7. Even A-yeon was ten times more profitable that she was, and Jimin understood that from a purely marketing standpoint it made no sense to invest any more resources on her.

 

And yet, she knew she needed to sing. For her, it was like breathing, the longer she waited the more suffocating it all became. So for the first time in her life Jimin was selfish. She took a break from ASC enrolled in a music program in Amsterdam. It was easily the most terrifying thing she’d ever done. She went to Japan and Thailand with her friends and loved every minute of it. She continued to make music, for herself, with MOLA, until she felt like herself again.

 

And she ate. She knew she was nearing back to her old weight but she didn’t care. If anything the Jimin in the mirror looked a lot happier and healthier than the one from months before. A-Yeon, Jae, Yerin and all her company friends begged her to just speak to JYP, but Jimin was done being taken for granted. She knew her contract would be up for renewal in a year or so. If JYP wanted to keep her, they’d make a move. If they didn’t, Jimin knew she’d be fine regardless. She said so frankly live on ASC.

 

_“I need to sing.”_

 

Jimin didn’t need the fame. She didn’t need the recognition. She didn’t need the money. She just needed her voice to be heard. And eventually it was. Artist were suddenly reaching out to her for collaborations, and while JYP seemed to remain tone deaf to her simple demand, others were seeing her for what she was: a singer, and a damn near perfect one as well.

 

Through it all she also thought about Yoongi. It was 2018, and he was nearly untouchable, and Jimin felt a little silly still having him on her mind. When she had left Jaebum at that cafe all those months ago she had been burning with questions. What happened at KBS in 2016? What was she to Yoongi? Most of all, what was he to her?

 

Jimin used to check up on BTS ever so often, but there was no need to now. Their image was plastered everywhere, and Jimin was genuinely happy they were getting the recognition they deserved. It wasn’t that she felt lesser to Yoongi. She just knew how these things worked. Perhaps there had been a moment, however brief, where they could have been something. But moments are fleeting, and so are feelings. There was no space for her in his life or in his heart, despite him still occupying hers.

 

But there was someone trying to change that. Jimin had been acquainted with Ravi, or Wonsik, since the early days of her debut with Yerin. Like with Young K, he had mostly been close to her older friends, and once he debuted she had seen him a few times on ASC. Despite his appearance he was rather serious, and maintained a rather intimidating aura. He was nothing but polite to her, though he maintained a careful distance. The truth, she later learned, was that he was simply a quiet person. Jimin prefered those types, though she herself was known for being loud and boisterous. (That part of her had wilted after coming of age, and she found that now she had to be more careful. She was a woman, after all, even if she didn't always fit into the ideal.)

 

That was why it came as a shock when Wonsik contacted her. Jimin had done collaborations in the past, and they were usually more or less informal. A mutual friend would contact a mutual friend, you’d record for a few days, and that was that. Despite the people they had in common, Wonsik went directly to her agency, directly to her, without any middleman or complications. Though she knew very little of him at that point, it seemed to coincide with what she had gathered about his personality through the years. Wonsik was rather reserved, but he did not play any games, particularly when it came to his music. It was a fact Jimin grew to respect.

 

The initial meeting was awkward to say the least. Jimin was thrown off by the formality of it all, and most of all by how unflinchingly earnest Wonsik was. He insisted on coming to her, and Jimin waited patiently in one of the little conference rooms scattered around her company. The early morning sun painted stripes of gold on the black table. Wonsik came earlier than expected, and Jimin had been draped across it, strategically avoiding the light. He knocked softly, and she nearly fell out of her chair as she stood up.

 

Wonsik was tall and dark, with sharp features that seemed to cut you at a passing glance. Combined with the tattoos peeking out from his collar, he appeared to be the definition of dangerous. It eerily echoed someone else she knew (though Yoongi’s reputation came about _despite_ his looks). Wonsik’s eyes were unmistakably kind however, and they softened as he greeted Jimin.

 

“The song isn’t finished.” After exchanging brief formalities, they had immediately began discussing the logistics of the collaboration, and Wonsik’s words caught Jimin off guard. He continued, “I was actually thinking you could help write it.” The _with me_ was left unsaid, but it hung in the air regardless.

 

“I don’t have a lot of experience writing,” Jimin admitted, “I know this is an important album for you, are you sure you don’t want someone else on this track?” As excited as she was about the opportunity, the last thing she wanted was to hold anyone back. Wonsik looked at her curiously, a bemused smile playing on his lips.

 

“Do you really not know how incredible your voice is?” He asked quietly. His words hung in scilence for a while, but Wonsik remained unperturbed. Jimin on the other hand stared back at him suspiciously. He didn’t seem like someone who gave compliments freely. Wonsik smiled a little wider at her lack of response, and it made his entire demeanor soften. Jimin flushed, averting her eyes. 

 

“Listen. Your last album was solid. Highly underrated, but solid. And I’m sure you’ve grown since then.” Jimin nodded at lap rather stiffly, still unable to process the genuine praise. When she met his eyes again, he was no longer smiling, but she could see the determination in his eyes.

 

“Jimin-ah,” He said her name with reverence, and Jimin felt herself grow warmer in spite of herself. He leaned forward, and she found herself pinned by his gaze. “Trust me.”

 

And with surprising ease, Jimin did. Working on Nirvana was different from the writing she did for her album. Back then, she had an entire team of producers and friends guiding her through the process and giving her confidence. Writing with just one person was a much more intimate experience. Wonsik was always kind to her, but he was also a demanding perfectionist. They worked for hours at a time, bouncing around lyrics and melodies. They disagreed often, and even as they argued Jimin found herself adapting to his taste and his vision, and Wonsik in turn picked up on her own subtleties. In the end they created something that was truly their own, and Jimin was proud.

 

“Oppa, performing was not on the table when we started this,” Jimin pouted, feeling slightly tricked. They were at her favorite samgyeopsal place, and honestly she should have known he was going to drop a bomb on her. Wonsik shrugged rather nonchalantly.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We all write songs to perform Jimin-ah, it isn't anything new.” He was annoyingly calm, as always, and Jimin glared at him half-heartedly.

 

“Look at me. I am in no condition to perform _anywhere_ ,” she whined, stuffing a spoonful of rice into her mouth for added effect. Wonsik went from annoyingly calm to annoyingly fond, and Jimin nearly choked at the unbridled affection in his eyes. 

 

“I am looking at you. You look beautiful,” He stated, piling more meat onto her plate. Wonsik spoke so frankly that Jimin couldn’t think of a witty reply. Not that he ever needed one. He always enjoyed the lulls in their conversations, while Jimin was often left stewing over his directness.

 

She learned quickly that it wasn’t just with music that Wonsik didn’t play games. There was no question about his attraction to Jimin from the very start. In fact, he made it clear on the very second day of recording. 

 

“I don’t want to be friends with you,” He said that evening, voice low enough for only her to hear. They were surrounded by his friends, others producers and engineers that were walking in and out of the studio. Jimin was sitting cross legged on the couch, revising a few lyrics Wonsik pointed out. He was perched on the coffee table in front of her, which only moments earlier Jimin joked was wobbling under his weight.

 

They seemed so much closer now than before. Jimin leaned back, looking at him incredulously. “What?”

 

“We can be friends,” he amended in the same light tone, as if he’d been talking about the weather. “But I felt it’s important you know that it’s not what I want.”

 

“What do you want?” Jimin asked, and it took her back to a year ago when she had been asked the same question. Wonsik, unlike her, had no trouble responding.

 

“You.”

 

Wonsik never brought up the subject again, but his intentions were clear. They continued to meet up, grabbing coffee or dinner. He’d pick her up if she was out late, or call her to make sure she made it home safely. Despite the openness of his affection, Wonsik never pushed for more. But ever so often he’d say something that would catch Jimin off guard, and it’d reminder that she wasn’t dealing with a silly boy in high school. This was a man, one who wanted to give her the world. 

 

Still, calling Jimin beautiful while her mouth was greasy and filled with rice was a new low, even for him. No one seemed to agree. 

 

“Are you seriously complaining that a hot guy called you beautiful?” Yerin’s disapproval was almost palpable. Jimin narrowly dodged her ‘friendly’ shove, nearly falling over the edge of her chair.

 

“It’s cause she’s still obsessed with Mr. Worldwide,” A-yeon snickered traitorously, and Jimin threw a plastic orange from her mom's centerpiece. Yerin frowned confusedly. 

 

“Pitbull?”

 

“Why are you both in my house?” Jimin asked for the millionth time. Yerin and A-yeon shared an unreadable look, before unanimously deciding to completely push Jimin off her seat at the dining room table.

 

“You call us to fix the mess that is your love life, and you still have the nerve to sass us?” Yerin chided.

 

“It’s not a mess!” She insisted, her voice a couple octaves shy of a squeak. Yerin and A-yeon shared another look, but dropped the subject.   

 

It was in fact, a mess. Jimin was still dealing with weird vibes from a lot of guys, but Wonsik was much more than a vibe. She never had someone pursue her so persistently, yet respectfully. Jimin couldn’t say that they were dating, but Wonsik made it clear that is the direction he wants whatever this was to go.

 

Jimin knew she shouldn’t refuse. On paper, Wonsik was everything she could want. He was older, and had a calmness and maturity that she craved. He shared her taste in music, and pushed her to grow creatively. He was clear about what he felt about her. Yet, there was a tingling sense of doubt inside her.

 

It wasn’t fair. She couldn’t compare what she has with Wonsik to what she _could_ have had with someone else. 

 

Yoongi was back in Korea after what seemed like a string of endless tours. The murmurings from other idols and trainees was that BTS was gearing for another comeback. It was now, or never.

 

Jimin thought of Wonsik’s warm gaze. She thought of his encouraging words and patient smile. She thought of his hands coming to rest at the top of her head at the end of a long day. She thought of another hand, holding her own in a darkening studio. And then she decided.

 

 

 

 

_“Hello?”_

 

_“Hi Oppa. I figured out what I want.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I firmly believe everyone is a little in love with Jimin and you can fight me on it. 
> 
> Once again, feel free to yell at me at parkjidamn.tumblr.com


End file.
